


Sleepless Nights

by jaybirdwrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: British Men of Letters, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 16:27:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16122362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybirdwrites/pseuds/jaybirdwrites
Summary: Unable to fall asleep the night before a hunt, you get up and wander around the bunker in the middle of the night. In doing so, you encounter Mick Davies, having a similar problem. You end up tipsy and giggling together in the library like a couple of schoolchildrenA fluffy Mick Davies oneshot based on the prompt "you weren't supposed to laugh!"





	Sleepless Nights

You angrily faceplanted your pillow, only looking up to check the glowing red readout on your alarm clock. 1:32 am. Bloody hell.  
Flipping onto your back, you glared through the darkness in the general direction of the ceiling. You needed sleep if you were going to survive the hunt tomorrow. You laid there for a while, envious of Sam and Dean's ability to pass out whenever and wherever they chose. Finally, after another ten minutes of deep breathing and attempts at clearing your mind, you accepted that sleep wouldn't be happening anytime soon.  
With a resigned sigh, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, and a chill from the floor crawled up your legs. Wrapping yourself in your blanket as if it were a cloak, you made your way quietly out into the hall. That was the one problem with an underground bunker, you supposed. Always cold.  
You shuffled towards the kitchen to make yourself a hot chocolate. The lights came on with a soft hum, making you squint for a moment as your eyes adjusted to the sudden brightness. You made your way over to the counter and flicked on the kettle-  
"Oh... hello."  
Your blanket dropped to the floor as you nearly leapt out of your skin with a loud gasp. Whirling around, you saw a man standing in the doorway, who, despite the hour, was still fully dressed in business attire. The only thing to indicate a state of relaxation was the missing suit jacket and a few open buttons at his shirt collar.  
"Jesus Christ, Mick! You scared the shit out of me!"  
You let out a breath of relief, giving your body a moment to stop trembling.  
"My apologies, (Y/N). Didn't mean to spook you."  
You straightened yourself and gave him a half smile,"S'all good. Is there uh... something I can do for you?"  
"No actually, I was just going to make myself some tea..."  
His face had turned slightly pink, leaving you confused until you remembered what you were wearing; a flimsy tank top and pyjama shorts. Sheepishly, you reached down to grab your blanket, drawing it close around yourself again.  
"I see. Well, I was about to make some hot chocolate. I can make you tea while I'm at it if you'd like," you said, turning around and holding your blanket with one hand while you reached up on your tip toes to slide two mugs from the shelf.  
"That'd be lovely, thanks."

A few moments later you handed Mick his tea, which he took gratefully. Earl grey with one sugar and no milk, as he'd requested. You both sat down across from each other at the table, where you wrapped your hands around your mug of steaming hot chocolate. You stared silently into the dark liquid, welcoming the heat that nearly scalded your hands but seeped comfortingly into your bones.  
"Can't sleep?" Asked Mick, breaking what was dangerously close to an awkward silence.  
"Yeah."  
"Nervous about the hunt tomorrow?"  
"Not really. It sounds pretty routine to me."  
"I see."  
"Is that what's kept you up so late? Worrying about the hunt?"  
Mick avoided your gaze, taking a sip of his tea. "I was, ah... doing some research in the library. Going over the lore and all that. Downright monotonous stuff." Mick paused, considering something. "Actually, it's much nicer in there. You'd be welcome to join me, if you'd like."  
The fact that he'd avoided your question gave you all the answer you needed. Instead of pursuing the topic though, you decided to let it go for now, agreeing to follow him into the library.

\---

Piles of books were stacked neatly on the coffee table, nearly everything the shelves had to offer on the particular creature you were hunting. You and Mick had seated yourselves on opposite ends of the couch.  
"That's kind of excessive, don't you think?"  
Mick glanced at the stacks of literature you were indicating. "Just trying to be as prepared as possible. In all honesty, I've read most of these before. We have copies in the library at Kendrick's. It's just review, really. And perhaps an attempt to bore myself to sleep."  
"Kendrick's?"  
"Sort of like our... Hogwarts, as Sam put it. It's where they train the recruits for the British Men of Letters."  
Mick took another sip of his tea, and you noticed his raised pinkie as he did so. You couldn't help but giggle, trying to hide it behind your cup.  
"What? What's so funny?"  
Still smiling, you raised your pinkie as high as you could, daintily taking a sip of hot chocolate in an exaggerated imitation of him. "That," you said, "was the single most British thing I've ever seen anyone do."  
Mick laughed with you.

"So, England. What's it like? I've always dreamed of travelling there one day." You had arranged yourself comfortably on the couch, snuggled into your blanket with knees drawn to your chest and your back leaning on the armrest so you faced Mick. By now, you had both finished your original drinks and started on the bottle of Rum that had been kept far too nearby to escape. The amber liquid sloshed gently in your glass. Was it your second or third? You couldn't be entirely sure.  
He sighed, "unfortunately, my opinion of it is rather grim. Grey and rainy, mostly."  
"Oh I love rain. I bet I'd fit right in."  
"You think so? I've found that fitting in is much easier said than done."  
To prove your point, you gazed directly into Mick's eyes and summoned as much Cockney as you could into your voice. "Why, it's elementary, my dear Watson!"  
Mick looked slightly taken aback. "Whoa! Where did that come from? That was very convincing!" He chuckled.  
"I watch a lot of BBC," you said with a grin. "Okay, your turn. Give me your best American accent. Nobody will believe you're a Brit by tomorrow."  
"Alright, but I've no doubt it'll be terrible. You have to promise you won't laugh!"  
"Promise."  
Mick was clearly trying very hard to keep a straight face as he leaned in close, "... My fellow Americans, ask not what your country can do for you- ask what you can do for your country!"  
You couldn't help it, you exploded into a fit of giggles. It really was terrible.  
"Hey! **You weren't supposed to laugh!** "  
"Sorry!" You spluttered, trying to control yourself, "I tried. That was hilarious!"  
"I suppose it was." Judging by the smirk on his face, Mick's pride clearly wasn't that injured.  
"...But in all seriousness, if you could go anywhere in the world - right now - where would you go?" After you said it, you became aware that the question might be too personal. "Sorry... I can get kinda weird this late at night."  
"No, no, it's perfectly all right." Mick leaned back, apparently giving it some serious thought. He threw back the rest of his glass of Rum before warmly meeting your gaze.  
"Much as I enjoy travelling, I don't believe I'd rather be anywhere else than where I am right now: here on this couch, getting to know you."

All you could do was hope that the alcohol in your system had reddened your face enough by now that he couldn't see you blush.


End file.
